her neck. Lays him down upon a bank of flowers. She feeing him afleep, leaves him. Anon comes in a fellow, takes off his crown, kiffes it, and pours poifon in the King's ears, and Exit. The Queen returns, finds the King dead, and makes passionate action. The poyfoner, with fome two or three mutes come in again, feeming to lament with her. The dead body is carried away. The poifoner wooes the Queen with gifts, she feems loth and unwilling a while, but in the end accepts his love. [Exeunt. Oph. What means this, my lord?

Ham. Marry this is miching Malicho, that means mischief. Oph. Belike this fhew imports the argument of the play ? Ĥam. We fhall know by this fellow: the Players cannot keep counsel, they'll tell all.

Oph. Will he tell us what this fhew meant?

Ham. Ay, or any fhew that you'll fhew him. Be not you afhamed to fhew, he'll not shame to tell you what it means. Oph. You are naught, you are naught, I'll mark the play. Enter Prologue.

For us, and for our tragedy,
Here flooping to your clemency,

We beg your bearing patiently.

Ham. Is this a prologue, or the pofie of a ring?

Oph. 'Tis brief, my lord.

Ham. As woman's love.

Enter King and Queen, Players.

King. Full thirty times hath Phoebus' car gone round
Neptune's salt wash, and Tellus' orbed ground;
And thirty dozen moons with borrowed fheen
About the world have time twelve thirties been,
Since love our hearts, and Hymen did our hands
Unite commutual, in most facred bands.
Fff

Vo L. VI.

Queen.

Queen. So many journeys may the fun and moon
Make us again count o'er, ere love be done.
But woe is me, you are so fick of late,

So far from cheer and from your former state,
That I distrust you; yet though I distrust,
Discomfort you, my lord, it nothing must:
And womens fear and love hold quantity,
'Tis either none, or in extremity;

Now what my love is, proof hath made you know,

And as my love is fix'd, my fear is fo.

King. Faith I must leave thee, love, and fhortly too:
My operant powers their functions leave to do,
And thou fhalt live in this fair world behind,
Honour'd, belov'd, and haply one as kind
For husband fhalt thou

Queen. Oh confound the rest!

Such love must needs be treason in my breast:
In fecond husband let me be accurft,

None wed the fecond, but who kill'd the first.

Ham. Wormwood, wormwood!

Queen. The inftances that second marriage move,

Are base refpects of thrift, but none of love.
A fecond time I kill my husband dead,

When fecond husband kiffes me in bed.

King. I do believe you think what now you speak;
But what we do determine, oft we break :
Purpose is but the slave to memory,

Of violent birth, but poor validity :

Which now, like fruits unripe, sticks on the tree,
But fall unfhaken, when they mellow be.

Most neceffary 'tis that we forget,

To pay our felves what to our felves is debt:

What to our felves in paffion we propose,
The paffion ending, doth the purpose lose;
The violence of either grief or joy,

Their own enactors with themselves destroy:
Where joy most revels, grief doth most lament;
Grief joys, joy grieves on flender accident.
This world is not for aye, and 'tis not strange
That ev❜n our loves fhould with our fortunes change.
For 'tis a question left us yet to prove,

Whether love fortune lead, or fortune love.
The great man down, you mark his fav'rite flies;
The poor, advanc'd, makes friends of enemies:
And hitherto doth love on fortune tend,

For who not needs, fhall never lack a friend;
And who in want a hollow friend doth try,
Directly seasons him his enemy.

But orderly to end where I begun,

Our wills and fates do fo contrary run,

That our devices ftill are overthrown,

Our thoughts are ours, their ends none of our own.
So think thou wilt no fecond husband wed,
But die thy thoughts, when thy first lord is dead.

Queen. Nor earth to give me food, nor heaven light,
Sport and repose lock from me, day and night;
Each oppofite that blanks the face of joy,.
Meet what I would have well, and it destroy,

Both here, and hence, pursue me lasting strife!
If once a widow, ever I be wife.

Ham. If the fhould break it now

King. 'Tis deeply fworn; fweet, leave me here a while,

My spirits grow dull, and fain I would beguile

The tedious day with fleep.

Fff 2

[Sleeps.

Queen.

Queen. Sleep rock thy brain,

And never come mischance beetween us twain!
Ham. Madam, how like you this play?

[Exit.

Queen. The lady protests too much, methinks.
Ham. Oh but he'll keep her word.

King. Have you heard the argument, is there no offence in't? Ham. No, no, they do but jest, poison in jest, no offence i'th' world.

King. What do you call the play?

Ham. The Moufe-trap. Marry how? topically. This play is the image of a murther done in Vienna; Gonzago is the duke's name, his wife Baptifta; you shall see anon, 'tis a knavish piece of work; but what o' that? your majefty, and we that have free fouls, it touches us not; let the gall'd jade winch, our withers are unwrung.

Enter Lucianus.

This is one Lucianus, nephew to the King.

Oph. You are as good as a chorus, my lord.

Ham. I could interpret between you and your love; if I could see the puppets dallying.

Oph. You are keen, my lord, you are keen.

Ham. It would cost you a groaning, to take off my edge.

Oph. Still worse and worse.

Ham. So you must take
must take your husbands.

Begin murtherer. Leave thy damnable faces, and begin.

Come, the croaking raven doth bellow for revenge.

Luc. Thoughts black, hands apt, drugs fit, and time agreeing: Confederate season, else no creature seeing:

Thou mixture rank, of midnight-weeds collected,

With Hecate's bane, thrice blafted, thrice infected,
Thou natural magick, and dire property,

On wholfome life ufurp immediately. [Pours the poison in his ears.

Ham.

Ham. He poyfons him i'th' garden for's eftate; his name's Gonzago; the ftory is extant, and writ in choice Italian. You fhall fee anon how the murtherer gets the love of Gonzago's wife.

Oph. The King rises.

Queen. How fares my lord?

Pol. Give o'er the play.

King. Give me fome light. Away.

All. Lights, lights, lights!

SCENE VIII.

Manent Hamlet and Horatio.

Ham. Why let the ftrucken deer go weep,

The hart ungalled play :

For fome must watch, whilst some must sleep;

So runs the world away.

[Exeunt.

Would not this, Sir, and a forest of feathers, (if the rest of my fortunes turn Tark with me) with two provincial roses on my

m

rayed fhooes, get me a fellowship in a cry of Players, Sir?

Hor. Half a share.

Ham. A whole one I.

For thou dost know, oh Damon dear,

This realm dismantled was

Of Jove himself, and now reigns here

A very very "peacock.

Hor. You might have rim'd.

Ham. Oh good Horatio, I'll take the ghoft's word for a

thousand pounds. Didft perceive?

Hor. Very well, my lord.

Ham. Upon the talk of the poisoning?

Hor. I did very well note him.

mrack'd, rac'd.

Enter

pajock. This alludes to a Fable of the Birds chufing a King;

inftead of the Eagle, a Peacock,